Tell Me
by oneapotheosis
Summary: Tell me you love me.
**A/N:** Hey, friends. I was having some feelings and so I wrote a little thing. I don't really know what it is, and I'm not sure it's too logical. I'm not even sure if it's entirely in character for Elizabeth. Hopefully there's not too many typos, my head is a blender. Anyway, please leave reviews, they're appreciated and they make me smile. I hope it's a pleasant read.

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 **Tell Me**

Elizabeth followed Henry towards the door. He walked much faster than she could and she struggled to keep up.

"Henry, wait." Elizabeth gripped his arm before he could disappear through the door.

He turned, giving her a questioning look. She was quiet for a moment, looking into his eyes.

"Tell me… Tell me you love me?" She swallowed, blinking a few times. She looked so small in that moment, vulnerable like a child.

He stopped, and turned to face her properly, taking her hands in his.

"I _love_ you. Of _course_ I love you." He smiled warmly back at her, his eyes were sincere and he felt a little guilty that he'd forgotten to remind her again.

Henry didn't need the verbal reminder. He knew in his heart that she loved him, regardless of time or distance. The words _were_ important, and he would never deny that, but they _weren't_ what held them together.

"I love you too." She whispered.

Of course she _knew_ that. He would always love her, and he showed her everyday. It was something that she'd grown to rely on. It felt necessary, and even though it was irrational, she always feared it would be the last time they'd get to say it to one another.

Maybe it had resurfaced recently. She felt on edge most of the time. Elizabeth had never imagined a life where she'd find herself fearing for the safety of her family, especially in their line of work. Even her own position as Secretary of State, she was at risk; a public figure. A target.

Maybe it had begun many years ago when her parents died, when her entire life fell away around her, piece by piece. Their death had simply been the tipping point; once a sturdy, resilient child, and in a matter of weeks, reserved and flighty; she was untrusting of the world around her.

Maybe it was conditioned in humans. Once you acknowledge something you can't live without, it becomes fair-game for fate. Maybe that was why people always agonised over the right time to tell someone that you are in love with them, that _you_ love them. It becomes only a matter of time before that is taken from you. Elizabeth tried not to entertain such pessimistic ideas, but they always played in the back of her mind. Fate wasn't set, lives change in an instant and she was at the forefront to see how the decisions of her and those around her play god with the uncertain fate of others.

The thought of uncertainty equally comforted and terrified her. Things could still change. It wouldn't matter what she did, how much power she could bend to her will, she simply could not control the inevitable actions of others.

-o-

There were no words for Henry to describe the relief he felt when he'd identified Dimitri Petrov. He'd not expected the young captain to even cast him a glance, much less extend any gesture of gratitude. It was quite literally the _least_ Henry could do. He'd promised the young man; he'd promised something that wasn't his to do so. It had taken so much of him, and it had taken so much from his marriage. A great weight had been lifted, and it was at the hands of his wife. She was always his cure, always the solution, even when she didn't know it. She was an integral part of his being. They were, in some senses, an extension of one another. How had he gotten so lucky. The ride back in the military jeep was silent. He gripped her hand tight, hoping that she understood for now that his words would not do him any justice. He would wait until they were alone. She watched him for most of the ride. His expression had shifted, and she was simply happy to see a change in the face of the man who'd recently remained so unmoved. She held his hand tight, squeezing him back.

They passed through doors unspeaking, discarding items of clothing and shoes on their way. She followed him into the room, turning to close the door. When she turned, Henry moved quickly and pressed her up against it. He tangled his hands through her thick hair and kissed her hard. Surprised at first, she quickly melted into his burning lips. He slowed his actions, kissing her gently now and stroking her hair. He pulled back to look at her, staying intimately close. She gave him a questioning glance.

"Elizabeth." He whispered her name. "I am so grateful for what you did." A single tear rolled down his cheek, and he dipped his gaze. She reached up and wiped the tear with her thumb, letting her hand linger, cupping his cheek.

"What you did for…" He felt his voice crack and he cleared his throat. "What you did for Dimitri is something that I will _never_ forget. I will never forget. And I… I'm just so thankful for you." She nodded, giving him a gentle smile.

He pulled her closer, encircling her in his arms and protecting her back from the door and whispered. "You are incredible. I love you so much."

He leaned in again brushing her lips with his and touching their noses. She closed her eyes and leaned up instinctively, waiting for his warm kiss. He descended on her slowly, pressing ever so gently, letting his own eyes flutter closed. Her hot breaths puffed into his mouth and it was like she was giving him life. He kissed her slow and gentle, trying to convey the weight of his love and mask the deep-seated grief. He rubbed her back, moulding her body to his. After a moment, Henry pulled back and pressed his cheek against hers.

She was the first to speak. "Don't wait for a crisis, Henry." She pulled away, looking down.

"For what?" He tried to meet her eyes, confused now.

"To say… To tell me… I need you to —" Her voice was shaking, and she felt silly now.

"What is it?"

"To _say_ that you _love_ me!" She rushed it out, hoping that he couldn't see the shame and embarrassment on her face. She felt so petty bringing it up, like it was an irrelevant detail. She felt weak and needy; two things she was an expert at concealing.

Her words struck him as she spoke, wounding him. Did she not _know_ how much he adored her? That she was _it_? She was right, though, and he knew it. The realisation hit him hard as he thought of all the things that made Elizabeth herself. She always told him, never a missed opportunity, and he'd practically ran into a gun fight without an utterance of reassurance. She wasn't _needy,_ she was fragile. The weight of her calm and calculated exterior, her indifference and fearless leadership making that part of her even more permeable. He waited, knowing that she had more to say and needed to get it out.

"Why does it always take something of great significance or a risk of life for you to finally _say_ it to me! I know this is stupid, and I'm sorry! I don't mean to be so petty, I just…" The tears began to steam down her cheeks.

Henry pulled her into his arms, where hers rested limply at her sides.

"Oh sweetheart, you _know_ how much I love you."

"I know I just…" She cried quietly into his shirt, finally moving her arms around him, tucking them under his warm jacket and gripping his sides. He rubbed her back soothingly, stroking her hair with the other.

They'd been denied so much intimacy lately, and she was right again, it always seemed to take a crisis to give them their wake-up call.

"I love you Elizabeth McCord."

"I love you Henry McCord."

"It's not stupid. I'm sorry, baby. There is _never_ a moment when I am not loving you." She nodded, letting his words comfort her. Her _did_ always know what to say. He knew that words did matter, especially to his wife. He held her close for a while, listening to her quiet breathing and feeling her body relax against his. He pulled her towards the small bed, sitting her beside him.

She took his hands now, sitting cross-legged and facing him. "Sorry I made it about me. How are _you_ doing?"

He chuckled. "It's… I'm okay." He sighed, looking away.

"Henry, come on. Talk to me like we used to." She squeezed his hands, giving him a small smile, trying to open him up.

"I'm glad we got him back, even if he's been through hell." Henry rubbed the back of his neck, sighing again. "I just hope I never have to be responsible for something like that again."

She nodded. He wasn't responsible, but it didn't matter, it was _his_ interpretation and she didn't want to argue.

"Thank you for making it possible. We couldn't have done it without you. I… I know what a _risk_ it was for you to make this happen and I'm so incredibly proud of you." He made sure she met his eyes as he spoke.

"We're a team." She whispered.

-o-

They were headed for the door on their way out, both headed for The Whitehouse this morning and so were able to commute together. Henry followed after her. She was walking so quickly. They entered the foyer and she strode towards the door. He gripped her arm, causing her to turn towards him. He gripped her waist and pushed her against the wall, crashing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. She squeaked into his mouth, standing rigid for a moment as he'd surprised her. Within seconds, she melted into his touch, her lips moving with his. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sighed into his mouth, letting his tongue slip past her lips. He tasted sweet like maple syrup and she hummed into his kiss. His body felt hot against her and he quickly regained control, pulling back reluctantly.

She panted heavily, trying to regain her breath. Henry waited for her eyes to open again. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked a little stunned, giving him a questioning look, wondering what had sparked his sudden display of passion.

"I love you. Don't you _ever_ forget it." He murmured, giving her another peck on the lips.

A lazy smile crossed her features, meeting her eyes. She threaded her hand through his hair gently.

"I love you too." She breathed, still a little winded.

He took her hand in his and gestured towards the door.


End file.
